


Get it Back

by lighthouse_stilinski



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes-centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 06:43:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6894250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lighthouse_stilinski/pseuds/lighthouse_stilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Do you even remember them?" </p><p>"I remember all of them." </p><p>Bucky isn't okay with what's been left behind, and he almost isn't okay with admitting it. </p><p>*Missing scene from Civil War inspired by something Sebastian Stan said in regards to Bucky. Do not read if you haven't seen the movie!*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get it Back

 

The abandoned warehouse echoes with the sounds of sirens and helicopters, and Bucky feels as though everything is falling apart.

“I need that bag back,” Bucky says. Panic rushes through his chest and catches in his throat, threatening to hold back the words that escape through tense lips.

“What are you talking about?” Sam Wilson takes a step towards Bucky, arms crossed and sporting a steely visage. Steve removes his gaze from the gap that allows him to check out their situation in the outside world, and he looks to where Bucky sits.

“My bag,” Bucky starts, “I need it.” He makes eye contact with Steve, feeling helpless and lost without the contents of that bag. He’s vulnerable, stripped of any humanity he had been able to gather in the past two years.

“What do you mean? What’s in it?” Steve asks. He walks to where Bucky sits and crouches in front of him. Bucky stares at the ground, heavy breaths enter and exit in uncomfortable intervals. “Buck, it’s okay. What’s in the bag?”

Bucky shakes his head, unsure that he can let go of that piece of him that he’s worked so hard on getting back. He’s been seen as a monster for so long, he’s forgotten how to let his guard down, even around Steve.

The Bucky that Steve knew was never a man of few words. He would talk Steve’s ear off without apology, especially when Steve had nothing to say himself. Bucky always had something to say, and he feels uncomfortable in the presence of a Steve Rogers that now has all of the words.

Now, Bucky has no wise-ass remarks. He has no idea how to talk about the one thing that he’s worked so hard on piecing together. The one thing that has allowed him to feel as close to whole as anything the world had been able to since he fought in the war.

Bucky releases a mouthful of air, and tears sting the corner of his eyes. He bites his tongue in an effort to make it stop. Physical emotion in the presence of others is not a luxury that he can afford, Bucky reminds himself. He cannot let this show. Not even in front of Steve.

But Steve would understand, he thinks. The only person in the entire world that cares about him is Steve, and he should be able to let himself go in front of someone that cares. He wants so badly for the things he’s done to escape his mind and fall into an endless abyss where he will never be able to recover them again, but maybe the first step in allowing that to happen is to stop carrying the burden himself.

Besides, Bucky has written about Steve a thousand times. And it’s not like the contents of that bag are going to be a secret for much longer, especially in the hands of the government.

“I don’t know where to start,” Bucky says quietly. Steve reaches out a hand and places it on Bucky’s forearm, gripping tightly.

“That’s okay, Buck,” Steve says. “You can start anywhere.” Bucky looks to Steve’s hand and then apprehensively to where Sam stands. He might be able to trust Steve, but he sure as hell does not have to trust anyone else. Steve follows his gaze, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam says. “I’ll butt out.” Sam waves a frustrated arm and disappears from the room.

Bucky looks Steve in the eyes, and he surprises himself at the fact that he still feels disbelief when he sees how different Steve is from the scrawny kid he was best friends with in Brooklyn.

“So, what’s in the bag?” Steve asks. He removes his hand from Bucky’s arm, and Bucky instantly feels a tinge of emptiness without his friend’s touch.

Bucky swallows, unsure of what to say. “Notebooks,” he says. “Probably a dozen or so.”

“What’s in the notebooks?” Steve asks. Bucky takes in a shaky breath.

“Everything,” he says. He closes his eyes, afraid that he’ll be able to see the disappointment in Steve’s eyes. “Everything about me. Everything I can remember.”

“All of your missions,” Steve says, and Bucky isn’t certain that he appreciates the help. “Buck, it’s okay.”

Bucky chokes on an uncomfortable laugh. “No, it’s really not okay,” he says. His eyes are still closed, and he feels himself become trapped within the chaos of his mind. “I wrote everything down. Every single thing that I’ve done.”

“Everything that Hydra made you do,” Steve insists. Bucky’s eyes snap open, and he isn’t met with disappointment. He’s met with warmth and concern, both affections that he definitely does not deserve.

“It doesn’t matter,” Bucky said. “If I was I screwed before, I’m really screwed now. You think anyone is gonna care that I had no control over what I’ve done?”

Steve wraps a hand around Bucky’s neck reassuringly. “I care,” he says with determination. “Do you understand me? I care about you.”

Bucky hates himself for letting his guard down, for letting the tears that threatened to escape finally fall down his face.

“I wrote everything I could remember about my life in those notebooks,” Bucky says. “Without them, I feel like I can’t hold onto who I am. I wrote down all of the terrible things that I’ve done, but I also wrote down everything I could remember from before I fell out of that train. My entire life. And you know what? The good memories took up more space than the bad ones. That fact alone has been keeping me together, kept me from completely losing myself.”

Bucky lets the words spill freely. He lets go of the barrier between him and reality. He allows himself to become emotionally exposed.

Steve is quiet, and Bucky doesn’t know if he is at a loss for what to say or if he wants Bucky to continue. Either way, Bucky opens his mouth and the words flow out once more.

“I thought a lot about how the world would be better off without me in it. I wanted to die, Steve. I really did. But for some godforsaken reason, I’m still here,” Bucky says. “I’m still here. But those notebooks are a part of me, and I need them.”

Steve nods slowly, a grin flashing across his lips. “We’ll get them back, Buck. We can get them back.”

Before Bucky registers what he’s doing, he leans forward and grabs Steve into a hug. He has no idea how they’ll do it, but he believes Steve. If only for a moment, he believes that everything will work out. That he’ll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone asked Sebastian Stan a while back about what was in Bucky's bag and this was his response: 
> 
> "In his backpack there are a dozen notebooks that compose the scattered memories dating back to as far as he can remember which somewhat piece together a scattered life. In a similar way to Alzheimer's, he's written things down, for fear of losing his memory again. He was prepared, were something to happen, to walk away with nothing but that backpack, which is why it's the only thing he takes and knowing full well that not everything those pages contain is pretty." 
> 
> How could I not write a fic about that?


End file.
